Waking up to this is magic.  Waking up to this is exactly the motivation that gets me through the hard miles, the climbs, the fatigue, and the times when one foot does not want to be put in front of the other.

We all have our reasons to push our limits, we all have our challenges.  Pace is relative to each person, miles and steps and quantities are relative.  But pain is pain, it has no prejudice.  I am continuously moved by the individual achievements that people share with me in the goings of daily life.  An extra lap around their block, 5 minutes longer on the stair master than last week, 10 more pushups than their previous record.  It’s the communal suffering that connects us, its pushing personal barriers, its finding out what you and only you are capable of and then heading straight towards it, and, its relative to each person.  Its these stories that keep me moving, its these people that I hope to have a similar positive impact on.

So, waking up this morning with tired legs and a body that has been put through the ringer, I knew exactly where I was going to draw my strength from today, more than any other day.  Today I would be leaning on my heart a bit more and on those that share in my desire to find what I am capable of.

As we line up at the start in Vail, I was overcome with a sense of calm that I knew no matter what happened on this final day, I wouldn’t allow myself to give anything less than everything inside of me.  Today would be 22.2 miles and 5,200 ft of elevation gain.  Today would be tough.

The first 3 miles were on the roads of Vail.  Alaska Chad took a 50-yard lead and the chase pack ensued.  With rollers along the course, I took advantage of the downhills and was able to break away from the chase pack by mile two.  Putting me in no-mans-land between Chad and the group behind, I would have to set my own pace, and hold that standard.

At mile 3 the real climbing began.  Switchbacks on the open face of the mountain, you could see Vail nestled in the valley slowly disappear.  At each turn, I could see the Arizona team of two and Caleb not far off my heels.  At mile 5 we entered the aspen forest.  Alone, climbing, I was weaving through the tall white pillars that provided shade and a sanctuary with each breath.  Complete and utter stillness (Is this real life).

With 4 more miles of climbing I hit the aid station at mile 8.  With the boys close behind and Chad out of sight I got my provisions and made the final push to the summit at mile 10.

As I descended I was met with sweeping meadows of tall grass that lured me towards a very rocky and technical downhill.  I did my best to conserve energy and “reckless-ness” as I leaped from solid footing to potentially loose rock on the decent.  Mile 13 would be through overgrown single track, masking my feet and the terrain below from eyesight.  By far the most dangerous part of the course.  Exiting injury free I entered aid station 2 at mile 15.

Miles 15 to 18 would be through the town of Avon.  Asphalt roads, full sun exposure, and traffic.  Without proper hydration and pace management, the last 4 mile climb of todays stage and the final miles of the race could get ugly.  I entered Avon with 32 ounces of fluid and by the start of the climb at mile 18 it was happily in my belly.

And then, the last climb of the race was staring directly at me, an asphalt road that would turn into single track trail.  The body was breaking down, but the calories and the mind were doing a great job of tricking it into holding the pace.  This was going to hurt.  And so, I cashed out in the bank of motivation.

At mile 19, pushing the pace, I thought of my cousin Lee who’s been to hell and back at B.U.D.S.  I thought about my “fast friends” Rivs and Harvey crushing the Boston marathon this year with epic finishes.  I thought of THE Rachel Hill, who day in and day out competes for a spot on the field in the NWSL.

At mile 20, hunched over with my quads screaming, I thought about my Port Washington crew, Liam, Tommy, and Jack who can slice and dice anyone on the Lacrosse field.  Mal and Aunt Joan, who crushed their half marathon and 5K races this past year.  I thought about my mom, who’s idea of vacation is to hike 13 miles a day, and my Dad who ran my first road race with me over 20 years ago and shares my love for the road.

At mile 21, shuffling up the hill, I thought about my sisters crossing the finish line of their Ironman’s, working their tails off and racing their legs into the ground.  I thought about my brother working over the last year and a half to recover from an ACL tear to get back on the pitch.  I thought about my 3 year old nephew who will race anyone willing to run around a stationary object out of pure joy.

And just like that, the climbing was over.  As I let gravity pull me down the mountain one last time I was left with this pit in my stomach, wanting the pain to be over but never wanting the steps on these trails to end.  I crossed the finish line in Beaver Creek.  This week, along with fellow crazies, we completed 120 miles with over 20,000 ft of elevation gain at the Transrockies Run.  I would finish 3^rd overall on the podium with a total time of 16 hours 30 minutes and 7 seconds while running with and competing against an incredible field of talent and dedicated individuals.

And for 6 days, I got to be someone else.  I was able to put all of my mind, heart, and feet into a sport that has grown me into the man I am today.  A sport that has stolen my earliest memories, seized adventure and grit and triumph and failure.  A sport that has brought people and a culture into my life that makes me better human.  It’s a way of life I will continuously choose.
Every
Single
Day

Until my days are no more

I will ALWAYS dream to run, because, I run to dream.